Content note: Some details are graphic in nature. This interview was summarized and edited for clarity.
“I always hoped to stay in Sudan, but now we are displaced.”
These words from Hatim Badien capture the heartbreak and resilience of a father forced to flee his homeland. When war erupted in Sudan in April 2023, Hatim’s dream home was lost to occupation and looting, and his family was scattered across continents.
Today, Hatim is not only rebuilding his life in Canada with his three sons – he has also joined Plan International Canada as our new senior manager of philanthropy.
In this conversation with our new colleague, we explore how Hatim’s personal journey from being a child in Plan’s programs in Darfur to a passionate humanitarian leader inspires his work, and why his story is a call to action for all of us: to remember the ongoing crisis in Sudan and the power of humanitarian support to change lives, both abroad and at home.
My first experience with Plan was over 40 years ago as a primary school student in Darfur. I benefited from school feeding programs and WASH [water, sanitation, and hygiene] services provided by Plan, Save the Children, and UNICEF. These experiences inspired my passion for humanitarian work.
I’ve worked with several international organizations in Sudan and abroad, including the Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue, the UK Department for International Development, United States Agency for International Development (USAID), International Organization for Migration (IOM) in Iraq, and most recently, the United States Institute of Peace (USIP) as the country director for Sudan.
When the war erupted in 2023, I was evacuated from Sudan with my family two weeks after the conflict began. We moved through several cities – Omdurman, Kosti, Kassala, and Port Sudan – before being evacuated by a Saudi vessel to Jeddah, Saudia Arabia, then eventually to Nairobi, Kenya. Later, I relocated to Canada at the end of January, and my three sons joined me in April. My wife remains in Sudan due to visa issues but is in a relatively safe area.
We left Khartoum four days after the war started, thinking it would be temporary. We traveled in my wife’s smaller car to avoid carjacking risks and only took essentials, expecting to return soon. We were able to bring important documents like passports and certificates, which proved crucial. On the way out of Khartoum, we came across three checkpoints. We expected the worst at each one; fortunately for us, they were only looking for personal weapons in the early days of the war, which we didn’t have.
My home, which I built myself and considered my dream house, was occupied by armed militants after we left. Neighbours and a shopkeeper who rented space from me kept me informed. The militants even demanded rent from the shopkeeper. The house was looted, and the occupation lasted for two years.
It was emotionally difficult, especially when my youngest son asked if we would ever go back home. I try to keep my children connected to their culture, but it’s challenging, especially for my youngest, who is struggling with Arabic after two years in Kenya and now in Canada.
Most of my extended family fled to safer areas within Sudan, or left the country if they could afford it. Many Sudanese have gone to Egypt, Chad, and other neighbouring countries. Those who stayed moved to relatively safe states, but services and security remain poor.
Yes, my uncle was shot and killed in El Fasher while going to the mosque. My cousin was abducted but was miraculously released after three days. Many people I know have died or are missing, and some are still unaccounted for.
The war in Sudan is the world’s biggest humanitarian crisis right now, but it hasn’t received the attention it deserves. Humanitarian response plans are severely underfunded, and international support is lacking compared to crises in places like Ukraine.
El Fasher is facing a catastrophe of unimaginable scale. Before its fall in late October, the city endured over 18 months of siege, trapping nearly a quarter of a million people in conditions so dire that many were forced to eat animal fodder to survive. International organizations reported an average of three child deaths daily. Today, the situation has spiraled into horror: Thousands have reportedly been executed in just 48 hours, with widespread torture and sexual violence continuing unchecked.
There’s a perception that Sudan is always at war, so the current crisis is seen as nothing new. Misinformation, propaganda, and geopolitical interests also play a role in the lack of attention and support.
I’m willing to share my story openly to raise awareness about Sudan’s crisis. I hope my experiences can help others understand the reality and encourage more support for Sudanese people back home, and here in Canada, with advocacy for the reunification of their families.
We’re adjusting, but the separation from my wife is hard. I’m grateful for the support from Plan and hope sharing my story will make a difference. The fact a person like myself, who is new to Canada, can join the team here speaks to the importance of representation.
I always hoped to stay in Sudan, but now we are displaced. I hope one day to return. That’s why it’s so important to support humanitarian efforts and peacebuilding in places like Sudan. That way, people are safe, families can stay together, preserve culture, and reduce the pressures that drive migration. Supporting countries in crisis isn’t just an act of compassion; it’s an investment in a safer, more connected world. Families like mine shouldn’t be forced to make the heartbreaking decision to leave everything behind.